


Three Turns of the Moon

by BatsuGames



Series: Malkavian Web of Vines [1]
Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines (Video Game)
Genre: Against the wall sex, Angst and Romance, Author has only played Bloodlines, Childe & Sire Interactions, Cunnilingus, Deduction, Doesn't know WOD lore, Don’t copy to another site, F/M, Feeding, Gen, Overpowered Character, Romance, Romantic Soulmates, Sex, Soul Bond, Stealing Tremere Secrets, Unresolved Sexual Tension, fighting scenes, sorry about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-03-06 01:18:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18840685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatsuGames/pseuds/BatsuGames
Summary: Escaping a staking by the Camarilla and frazzled out of her mind by new little fangs that want to gnash on necks, newly made Malkavian Ivy Montgomery is found by wanderer Beckett.It's only later she's struck by the gaze of one unofficial Anarch Leader.And Nines is on the prowl to find the one who's turned his beast to mush before her.[Soulmates AU]





	1. The Look

**Author's Note:**

> A quick three chappie story written the last two days to escape studying for exams after I found out Bloodlines 2 is coming out. Hope you enjoy it as there's just not enough Vampire Bloodlines fics out there! 
> 
> (Ivy Montgomery is rather well used in my fics as my go to girl. Sorry about that if you've read her in my other stories and wanted someone new).

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

Ivy jerked away from the bed, shoving on her t-shirt and dodging the fast fist holding a stake coming at her as the man she’d slept with was stabbed in the heart. She didn’t even have time to scream at someone being killed in front of her as another came for her. Still, twenty five years in the martial arts business led to sheer experience and she fella and swiftly rolled out of the way, grabbing her skirt in one hand and clipping it on. She jumped back as the dead body of her lover was taken away, grabbing the lamp, smashing it to get a point for a weak weapon and slicing the man across the eyes and making him shriek.

 

The other one came at her with sharp talons for nails and she ducked, slashing him across the throat. He automatically held onto the gash and the took the chance to kick him out of the way of her exit into the other man, only for the pair of them to turn to dust. It made her choke for a moment, seeing something in the air that sparkled. Waving the dust away, she grabbed her socks and shoes, shoving her feet in and shakily tying the laces up on her combat boots. She whimpered at the sight of her own nails being longer and sharper when they’d always been neat and short and almost to the quick.

 

What the hell was going on?

 

Trembling hands turned into fists as she looked around hurriedly.

 

There had to be some sort of reason for this insanity.

 

Something in her head whispered for a moment and she whirled around, looking for the source, only to spot a jacket from her one-night-stand lover. Grabbing her own and shoving it on as she walked over, she went through his pocket, finding a large wad of cash that no normal person would carry around on them. Why? Why carry around… Jesus, it had to be about six grand here in the envelop! She closed it and shoved it in her inner jacket pocket. He wasn’t using it, and she’d use it to get away from these- her mind stopped.

 

Had he known about these people? Wanted a last bit of fun in the sheets before running?

 

Couldn’t blame him, but it fucking sucked to be the one he’d hit on. She’d liked his eclectic way of speaking, how he seemed to greatly enjoy her own thought patterns, how charming he’d been with that little knowing grin. He’d reminded her of friends and family back home, and she wanted a taste of that, having been touring the world and finishing up here a week ago in Toronto. Now she’d have these people-

 

Shit, she shouldn’t be faffing about here when they could come back. Quickly getting her things together, she went through his jacket pockets, only finding one of those Victorinox toolset things and a set of keys. Taking both, and then also a piece of paper with an address, she paused, seeing something shiny on the bedside table.

 

A flute in a box?

 

Right, yeah, he’d played it to her and she danced around drunkenly, making him laugh through the playing.

 

Grabbing the box and latching it closed, Ivy hastily shove it in her postman bag and left the apartment, but through the window after checking if the coast was clear. She slunk down a particularly well-made drainpipe and began to make her way to the road, before stopping herself. What if they were there? Nah, she wouldn’t chance it. She turned and made her way back to the maze of damp alleys and skedaddled.

 

Something hissed in her ear, and she turned to the right, seeing some drunk dude fiddling with his belt to take a leak against a wall. Gods… but… but she just wanted to…

 

She jerked as her teeth dropped out and then the base of her mouth seemed to puff out a little. She spat out old canines into her hand and paled when her tongue swept up a very pointed fang. A fang that seemed made to _inject_. To bite. And boy oh boy was the man before her, with her hearing picking up his heartbeat, seeming tasty. She felt entranced, almost, coming up to him silently.

 

With a leap on soundless feet, she jumped him, biting down. The man gargled and she herself trilled at the thrill of getting fresh blood into her mouth. She slurped and slurped until the whisper in her head told her to stop, and she simply dropped down and lay him down next to a dumpster. Blood was sweet, and gorgeous and she felt a strange sort of hyperactivity like she’d taken drugs, dazing her.

 

A blissful smile met her lips.

 

More.

 

Not here, but more.

 

Twenty minutes later found three more people mostly drained and feeling mostly sated. Did she have to do this each night from now on? She herself ended up slumped next to a wall, terrified. It was some time later that she sniffed, the scent of… she looked up, someone in sunglasses coming her way in a duster with long hair for a man. A flash of fangs and, she knew he was like her. Instinctively flashing her own, it made the man smirk at her.

 

“Well, aren’t we looking a little timid? Bad night?” He drawled.

 

_The wolf of the world and its old wiles._

 

“The first of many, I’m sure,” The Scot murmured. “Ivy Montgomery. A pleasure.”

 

“Beckett. First? You mean to tell me this is your first night as kindred?”

 

“If that’s what this is called, yes.”

 

“Your sire-”

 

“Dead.” Then she paused. “Or soon to be? Already? Not sure. Once or twice?” She felt giggles in her head and put a hand to her temple. “What is going on?”

 

Beckett ducked down to her side, and she spied red eyes from above the sunglasses. “We are kindred, humans are kine and they call us vampire. It seems you are Malkavian.”

 

“Feels like I’m going mad, Beckett.”

 

“You already are as Malkavian.” Her frown was obvious, and he smiled at her. “Come with me and let me teach you some basics of the curse of Caine, fledgling.”

 

.

 

A small amount of time later in some sewer hidey-hole after Ivy fed three more times before she was fully satisfied, Beckett was nearly finished with the basics as they sat at a table with library books. He’d gone through with her the history of the curse of Caine, telling of two or three other versions that could also be true. It had her thoughtful, and more restive after her hard first night. He’d told her usually that first nights were still as traumatic with the Embrace, but very rarely did the Embrace happen and the childe and sire would get attacked by multiple kindred straight after. Most kindred were specifically chosen for the Clan.

 

Which brought on the next topic, of Clans, of bloodlines, and abilities. As Malkavian, he informed her, she would have abilities to see and potential images of the future or past, voices in the head, the Network. He was a bit more informed about this Malkavian Clan of hers because some of his closest friends had been of that blood. He was Gangrel, and gave her the overarching information about each. Then he told her of the Camarilla, the Sabbat, the Anarchs, and those like him, lone wanderers that did not uphold the rules of any but for keeping the Masquerade.

 

Admittedly, she was glad she wasn’t Nosferatu or Toreador.

 

Being the Perspicacious Malkavian, even at the cost of feeling… a little fractured, to say the least, was much favoured in comparison.

 

“And the whispers?”

 

“That belongs to the Network. It will help, regardless of how irritating it is said to be. Advice, feelings, instincts that link to it are something to be heeded. The Malkavian’s have been known in the past as the court advisors, even if also the jesters as well.” He leaned on the table with his elbows and put his chin on entwined fingers, taking her in. “May I perhaps try your Malkavian mind?”

 

“Trial period lasts as long as you help me,” She grinned. Then she blinked, looking at him. “What is it that is… sparkly, in you? In me?”

 

“Sparkly?”

 

“Well… Yours for instance. Animalistic. But…” Her eyes sharpened trying to see more. It’s then her lips parted, staring at his chest. “White wolf. Yet not that alone, just the most. Weird. It’s not complete.”

 

Beckett’s eyebrows rose. “Not complete? The wolf form is the best it’s ever been.”

 

Ivy stared in thought, idly biting down on her lower lip and worrying it a little. “The energy needed, the blood, it doesn’t flow out as perfectly as it could. Er.” She looked away. “Let me try putting it into words. Hang on.” She tried to get the image right in her head and rubbed her temples as she frowned. It wasn’t voices right now. It was an image, a feeling, and it was too much right now. She pulled them apart, taking one in and then pulling the next in to her consciousness. “They’re insistent.” Using a bit of the sparkly, she kind of understood. “Okay.”

 

“The voices are insistent?”

 

“Yes. Think I got the trick to working them though with sparkly.”

 

“Magic?”

 

“Yeees?” She said, unsure. “Maybe? It’s just something in the blood.”

 

Beckett hummed. “Curious. It seems your insight is inward rather than outward.”

 

Her blue eyes locked on his wolf again. “When you flow it out to become the wolf, it stutters, I see. Those stutters need a swirl of the blood just before they happen. Anti-clockwise from how you do it before snapping back clockwise. Ye ken?”

 

The archaeologist took her in. “I do. Then I shall try.” Getting up, he stepped back and flickered into his wolf form faster than ever, and it seemed to be better from what he could tell. His blood flowed better- and he found himself able to use magic in this form. He switched back, faster and easier than ever. “Incredible. Your mind is a wonder. A perfect opposite to the usual Malkavian and yet completely Malkavian in of itself. Tell me, what do I need now?”

 

She focused on him once more and raised her brows. Ivy looked to the books at her side, grabbing one that stood out to her in the middle of one of four piles. A book about books? She pushed it over to him.

 

Beckett furrowed his brows. “I was hoping to know about an urn that speaks of Gehenna.”

 

“I have no idea what that is.” Ivy said as she opened the book and went three quarters to the end, only to slow down as something said to and flicking a few pages along. She stopped, tapping a page, and then smiled. She turned it around and let him inspect.

 

Red eyes trailed along the words. “A pottery book? Not historical?”

 

“Are ritualistic items no historical?” She wondered, her mind speaking to her. “This is the best you will find here. These books given me no greater vibration. The closest are these four, but only half as much as that one passage.” The woman took out books, put them on top of each other and pushed them forward. He swiftly went through the first, with Ivy staring at the wall in contemplation.

 

Now what?

 

The man had given her the run down of kindred society if detail that has lasted the last three or four hours, and she’d given back by saving him just as much time and helping his form out with that weird Malkavian insight gift. If he believed her or not considering his going through the lesser vibrating books intently, she wasn’t sure. Her arms cross as she slouched back, legs long before her instead of tucked under the chair and she wondered what to do.

 

This was the life-changer. She couldn’t go back to her family. Not back to her old job. Could she even ‘kill’ herself off?

 

Gods, how depressing.

 

So, what now?

 

Read? Her eyes drifted along to a book, something about Babylon. Might as well indulge. She had all the time in the world now. Flicking to a bit about agriculture, Ivy soon got lost in the book, leaning over it, hours passing as she took in a fifth of the books, and then found herself drifting andfalling asleep.

 

Beckett only noticed when he closed the last book, and saw her sleeping on an open book. His lip quirked up. “Quite the fascinating little fledgling, aren’t you? Where shall you fly?”

 

.

 

Turns out, Beckett wasn’t yet willing to let go of one of the best researchers offered to him.

 

After leaving her be asleep, he went to find the book at the library he took these from before sunrise hit, only to get a wealth of information. It was incredible how much everything he needed was in it, inclusive of how it was made and rumours about it, and who was least to have held it in its original use. And on she slept, looking innocent, like a student studying for an exam and having to just have fallen asleep.

 

Yes.

 

In return for teaching her, he decided, he would have a new childe to look after.

 

Ivy, with nothing and intrigued, nodded her agreement.

 

.

 

So went on life for the next twelve years.

 

Beckett and Ivy bonded closely, exploring the world and uncovering little secrets here and there. Whilst Beckett was the smarter of the two, Ivy’s natural talent in fighting had them protected well, whether it be in a museum in Malaysia, a stadium in Munich, or in the depths of a pyramid in Egypt. Mostly because Beckett couldn’t keep his nose out of sussing things out.

 

She didn’t mind, it was fun.

 

Until she felt the urge to travel away from dusty tombs, see what technological feats had happened, to try and work of her skills as Malkavian of sending things distantly.

 

“I adore you, but we currently want different things.”

 

Beckett hummed at his desk as he read a book.

 

She gave a sigh at the sitting man, running arms around his neck and kissing his cheek from behind. “I’ll miss you, Beck. Won’t you miss me?”

 

“You could always stay,” He replied as if nonchalant about his partner leaving him.

 

She rubbed her cheek against his. “I need to… to find something of my own. Protected. I don’t know what.”

 

Beckett shifted away a little, taking her in. “Nestling. You need a haven. I see. You did not seem bored with our life, and this suddenness…”

 

“I need more people. The whispers are so vague here. The Network so far away.” Her fingers dug in a little into his duster and she let go to turn and sit on his lap. Her hand held his cheek. “Would you forgive me for leaving you even temporarily, Beckett?”

 

His gaze alit on hers, red eyes locking on blue. “Not all of us can be solitary. But I do not like you so far from my side,” He remarked, Gangrel blood showing up. “Yet, the instinct will not go. It needs to be made, defended, hidden. The strongest need one. And you are the strongest Malkavian I know, even more so than my old companion Anatole. Perhaps… Perhaps I may meet up with them again.”

 

Ivy smiled at him, putting her forehead to his. “Please do. I could not stand to see you alone, Beckett.”

 

He paused, looking down at her, and his lips ducked.

 

She lifted her own up and joined in, pushing him back into bed hungrily.

 

.

 

The next afternoon, Ivy awoke, completely sated, a smile on her face... but then her lips dropped.

 

Yeah.

 

She couldn’t see more of this happening with any sort relationship.

 

_Casual, friends with benefits, romantic...?_

 

No.

 

He was good, but... It wasn't...

 

Turning, the woman saw him staring at the ceiling before staring at her.

 

“Uh, Beckett-”

 

“The same,” He said ruefully, shifting to his side.

 

She looked at him, and sighed. “I wish…”

 

“It would have been easy, hm? Us, together, the love would flow well and lasting. But. I feel you need a cause, a fight.”

 

“That’s me, Ivy Montgomery, always a fighter.” Her joke fell a bit flat, and to her mortification, she felt blood-tears well up. “I-I-” Her voice cracked.

 

Beckett drew her closer to him in the bed. “Don’t feel sorry. We both thought it.”

 

“Many times, I-” She stopped to rub tears away, only for him to hold her wrist and lick the blood. Alarm was in her tone as she hissed out, “Beck!”

 

“I would have you in me, so I may keep in contact with you easily. I took your blood, I am bound. It will make it easier for you to find me.” His hand stroked her cheek. “I do adore you, Ivy. You’ve never let me down. There has been little of that in my life.”

 

Her eyes went intense and she sat up, uncaring of her nakedness. Her hand grasped his, holding his hand to her cheek. “Nor shall I. We’ve talked everything under the sun, Beckett. Our minds are aligned. Whatever we are is not conventional. I would take all your words as truth as I give my own truths. All those oaths one can give bound in blood, I know you would uphold without them. I love you. Not romantic, but,” She cut off, unsure, turning away. “I know you so well. I would never shun you. You are a haven in person form. I just need a physical one.”

 

“I would keep it that way. I am the scholar, serious and sarcastic, and you are my cheerful, charming collaborator.”

 

“I think you need a debater to challenge you. I’m too friendly for you.”

 

He snorted, shifting onto his back but letting her hold onto him. “True.”

 

“Is it wrong for me to feel pissed off it didn’t work between us, Beckett? I almost feel like I’ve lost something.”

 

“As do I.”

 

She swallowed. “I have to go. I hate it, because I’ll really miss you. Gods, why am I so emotional, I-just-” Sudden arms wrapping around her made her sniffle and she buried her face into him. “Maybe I was halfway in love with you?”

 

“Halfway? How slow,” Beckett murmured.

 

“What?” Ivy looked up at him.

 

“I’ve loved you these two years.” The wolfman told her, knowing it would take a while until he’d fall out of it. They had, after all, never had an argument of rage and vitriol. They were always together, laughing, joyous from their quick wits, and happy to have a fellow soul intrigued. He also knew it was a sort of curse of the Cainites. Because there would be someone better, a true partner, and it would take so long to find. A tale passed down from even the earliest of generations. Of how Caine had loved Zillah and he desperately wanted someone. How Zillah was the closest for him to have that. How he could not, as she did not feel it.

 

He could understand Caine’s emotions now.

 

Ivy had been the closest yet.

 

And thus, she’d be the hardest to let go of.

 

Because holding on would only hurt.

 

Her eyes welled up fully at that. Her head ducked, blood splattering on high-grade sheets. “I’m so sorry! I have to go, this is too-” She got up, dressing swiftly, gathering things.

 

Beckett only rose up slowly, needing his own time as well to process this development. “Ivy. Take this when you are ready.” He flashed an envelope from the bedside cabinet.

 

“I, but that’s, that’s the money for...”

 

They’d done a dig. Items had come up priceless. This would keep them both well for decades. “Yes. I have money stored that gets savings doubling over time. You do not. Take it.”

 

Slowly, she did, looking down at it, sadly.

 

The wolf man chuckled. “Come now, is that the look you’re going to give a fortune?”

 

“Oh, Beckett…” She came over.

 

He smiled as he felt her kiss his cheek. “Go, my childe. I'll find you.”

 

.

 

Ivy had left him in the eighties and found her home very much near Cambridge, much to Oxford-born Beckett’s sighing.

 

Now it was early two thousands.

 

They’d not seen each other in literal decades.

 

The one time he’d called out for her was when his friend had died in ’99 and he'd done so mentally.

 

She’d responded with a vehement warmth that thrashed through the Malkavian Network to reach him.

 

He’d repaired in her healing spirit, leaving with a mental thanks.

 

And she did not hear from him until she entered Los Angeles.

 

.

 

Ivy watched stonily as the kid, once in the position she was in, be held before the Camarilla.

 

Sitting to the utter right side of the front row, a pillar to her side, the autarkis had her arms crossed as she took in the Prince and the rest of the scene with surveying eyes. Yes, the Sire was to die, but the childe? Who’d done nothing? That infuriated her as Sebastian LaCroix gave a bit of a fake sounding apology to the sire. Some Gangrel kid, which had her instantly sympathetic. Being of Beckett’s blood, and also for having a sire die on her… Ivy would offer her help.

 

She turned when a shout came to her ears.

 

“This is BULLSHIT!”

 

Some man, bearded, thick black hair and white-blue eyes and a thickly muscled body stood up, pissed off at this whole thing. Her mouth watered at the sight her first glance of him, having paid no attention to the others, hood up from her hoodie under her leather jacket. The jacket had been a gift from Beckett the last time she saw him and she doubted she’d ever get rid of it with how useful it was, pockets galore. Heck, it had holes covered with new patches when she got into some shit. And now… now was some new shit she was getting into now this male before her had her almost riveted on his form, his energy.

 

How had she never met him before?

 

It felt like her world was slowly changing.

 

She swallowed and turned her gaze away to see the new Gangrel get freed. That’s all she needed to see. She stood up inconspicuously, and left along the side, unable to help but look again to him.

 

And her eyes locked with his.

 

It sent a bolt from her head to the middle of her legs. It felt like life had reemerged in her, that she had something that wired her up and calmed her down at the same time. Her jaw gritted as his mouth opened in shock before closing, his eyes focused on her alone. His nostrils flared, taking in her scent as best he could with all the undead in there. She gave a wry little grin, eyes twinkling, and simply left, knowing his eyes were on her.

 

Was this… Was he…?

 

He had to be her true partner.

 

Never had she felt such an instant want – not even when human. All she could think of was his body, his eyes, his voice. Her head shook and she went around the back, waiting, as her Malk instincts dictated. The new born came out the same time Smiling Jack appeared. The three of them looked each other down, but it was Ivy that snorted and shifted away from leaning on the wall.

 

“Welcome to vampiredom, neonate,” She opened up with to the blond lad. “You’ve a lengthy road ahead of you, Gangrel.”

 

“Gan-what?” He asked, brown eyes frowning.

 

Ivy traded glances with Smiling Jack, incredulous but accepting. “As I thought. You were changed without knowing anything.”

 

“Hey don’t worry kid, Smiling Jack’s got ya!” Jack laughed a smokers laugh.

 

“You can also gain help from me should you wish it.”

 

Jack snorted. “Please, you’re still new.”

 

“New? Forty years of this is new? And despite supposed newness, my closest companion is a Gangrel, Brujah. I know how to work their abilities right,” Ivy responded lightly and then turned to said Gangrel. “I am Malkavian, if you wish to know. I offer my help, as, it seems, does Jack.” Yet she saw that the male Gangrel, a pretty guy with unsure eyes and a wounds up mind, seemed more inclined to Smiling Jack. “Do know that politics are abound in the Masquerade. Enjoy the perhaps twenty minutes or so of teaching Smiling Jack will oh so kindly bestow;  _you’ll need it_. This Malkavian will remember your choice. Here’s a hint, don’t piss of Malkavian’s. Seers see most back and forth and side to side.”

 

“No up and down?” The Gangrel snarked.

 

“You’ll get enough of those on your early days, kid,” She retorted. “But I am not so cruel. Hints. You’re Gangrel, the animalistic ones. Learn your form, and when it stutters, go widdershins. Got it? Widdershins! Good! Now, focus blood into your head to use abilities, and let your blood magic do as it flows. You’ll need to learn the flow of the tide or be swept away by your own incompetence. Which I suspect will be quite high for such an arrogant fledgling. Seek me out if you wish to know more but be prepared for high costs. I make myself as the best which your ignorance pushed away. Enjoy the jesters. We Malkavian’s know they use misdirection.”

 

Power flooded her legs and she jumped up five stories onto the next building and going away a bit. She put blood in her ears to hear.

 

“Heh heh heh! Made a bad choice in me against the little lady! I can only give the smallest of shits. She’s still young enough to care without wanting to use. You idiot. Did you think because she’s female, she’s worse off to teach you? Haha! You’re soon gonna find figureheads as males are often surrounded by female advisors in this life. Now you can learn by yourself the ins and outs of us bastards.” Smiling Jack left with a chortle.

 

It made her smirk.

 

Ah, comeuppance was a treat!

 

.

 

Ivy left the roof she was overhearing, jumping over alleys to get to a bar for a drink from a human. She liked the ones with good taste in whiskeys when she sunk her teeth in them. She could pick up the taste. Quite often she hit on men just to get the buzzed filled blood they had. A smile and she went into a local bar, grabbing a single shot to nurse that she’d never drink. Hitting on a man, she enticed him away, and sated herself on his blood, only to come back in.

 

And lock lightning blue eyes on white-blue.

 

Her blood pounded in her, eyes widening at his sudden appearance. Oh, oh gosh. She saw him get up from his little group, making his way to her, but she balked at a confrontation and strode away. She disappeared around the side and jumped up and away. Seconds later in Obfuscation, she heard him come out in a rush and looked around, sniffing deeply around the ground. He wouldn’t find her if she’d gone up. With a grin, she heard him curse hard and begin to pace. He’d not find her if she didn’t let him. She watched after minutes of him sniffing around to find her, of him leaving, and silently followed him until he got to the Last Round.

 

Was that his home?

 

To annoy, she went around the bar once, letting her scent permeate the area with extra blood in her pores for more scent.

 

Ah, but teasing was fun!

 

.

 

The next time Ivy saw him, he was saving the newbie fledgling, and she leaned on a railing on the second story to listen in.

 

“Name’s Nines.”

 

Ivy rose a brow at that. Nines?

 

She ignored the rest of what he said, some sort of warning against Sabbat and such as she watched Nines unblinkingly, and the newbie went on his way.

 

Nines instantly looked her way as she leant on the railing, as if he had always known she was there and she grinned to herself before affecting a more neutral look when he came closer, almost stalking forward to her. She look as he peered up at her, and his face was hungry, wanting. It thrilled her, made her watch him fully. To her surprise, he jumped up, grasping the rail she was leaning on and hefting himself up so he was on the dangerous side of the rail, a two story drop beneath him.

 

Her eyes had dropped half-lidded at this show and she swallowed, mouth somehow still salivating. Her eyes were at the same height as his pecs now, and she looked up, only to feel small and powerless as she looked up at him bending over her. His presence was overwhelming without even using his blood powers. He sniffed hard and long, as if to make sure of what he already knew was her scent belonging to her. It made her smile because as she looked at him, she could already see what he had that Beckett was missing. This connection, the instant attraction. It was not to be thought of as anything else. It couldn’t be misplaced. She leant a bit closer, standing up straight, and her top of the head touched his chin ever so slightly.

 

He jerked, almost painfully, at the soft touch.

 

“Good evening, Nines, a pleasure to meet you.” Ivy smiled up at him. “You look a bit unbalanced.”

 

His eyes almost dug into her. 

 

“As you seem to be mute, let me join you in your imbalance.” She hopped over the rail to be on the side without a balcony to catch her, and his arm jerked to hold her waist, just in case she fell. Her heart melted a little. “Mhm.”

 

Nines felt his body heat up at the touch of her, his beast climbing up and growling to keep. “What…?”

 

Ivy, to tease him, slung a leg over the rail to straddle it, and slid out and away from his touch. “Oh, quite the conundrum, hm?” She asked playfully, leaning forward, so very close to touching him. “Do you not know yet? Very cute, Nines. Tell me when you figure it out, hm?” She stood on the barrier, balancing with ease. It’s then she leapt up on the roof of the building. She blew him a kiss. “Until next time?”

 

“Wait!” He called.

 

She did. “For what, dear Armando?”

 

He snorted at the name before wondering, “What’s your name?”

 

“Ivy.”

 

Nines looked up at her, needful. “See me soon.”

 

“ _Me?_ See you?”

 

“I have every feeling you know who I am and where I am, Ivy.”

 

Her lips tilted up knowingly. “True.”

 

He narrowed his eyes at her grin. “I’ll be finding out about you.”

 

“Please do.”

 

“I’ll scent you down wherever.”

 

“Intriguing.”

 

"You know you're gonna be mine, right?"

 

"Quite possibly. But, dear Nines, _you'll have to catch me first_."

 

* * *

 

* * *

 


	2. The Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW ahead! Also, vampires are of blood so things get mixed with blood. So... warning for blood stuff? In an E rated vampire fic?

 

* * *

 

Ivy narrowed her eyes at the news of an attack on a cargo ship or something akin to that. Sounded suspicious. Bloodbath they called it. But that wasn’t interesting for her. What had her more interested was the Ankaran Sarcophagus. Naturally her instincts went to research after all these years of her studying with Beckett, the man teaching her about logic and scepticism. Her childer years under him had shown much value in deduction and reasoning and frankly, the rumours she was hearing from some young, dumb kindred was all around the Downtown area.

 

Her instincts clamoured at her that it started there.

 

_Someone_ started something there.

 

Her gaze went across the table she was sharing with some young Tremere, in the Chantry. She had a loose agreement with Strauss to help his neonates with the Tremere secrets she did know in return for some lesser secrets of the Tremere she didn't yet know… and whatever she managed to wheedle out of the older initiates of the Chantry form under his nose. She’d long since learnt to do blood barriers and projectiles from Beckett, who was something of a master at it for a non-Tremere, but there was always more to learn and understand. Right now, biothaumaturgy was on her list. If she could see inward with her Malk instincts, and see the ‘inner’ understandings of books, then it was surely going to be easy for her to learn how to gain information from biological specimens? Or to heal up any damage to her undead body with blood?

 

“The zig-zag formation enhanced with oxygen starts the reaction, as I’m sure you know-” The Tremere woman before her went on, with Ivy nodding, completely not knowing and having faked her being a Tremere to this Neonate. One bit of magic revealed and the Tremere believed she was of the Pyramid and was all over getting someone to teach and learn from, wanting to boast of her prowess. “It’s that energy that targets it, yes? What if we could expand it?”

 

“Expand? In what way? Explain.”

 

“Create multiple zig-zigs for more reactions-”

 

“It becomes highly unstable, and very quickly, too.”

 

The Tremere frowned. “You’re right. I thought having many could have us understanding more of the specimens at once.”

 

“Too much information will overload the spell." But, Ivy had thought of a way around that as she listened to the radio in the Chantry library. "I must leave. There are tasks yet for me to do. Until next time, Apprentice.”

 

“Yes, High Magister.”

 

Ivy let a smile show and left, inwardly amused at being a High Magister in her eyes, and left to go.

 

Now to practise what she’d learnt on the Elizabeth Dane.

 

.

 

It was an hour later Ivy was creeping up on the ship under Obfuscation, nose taking in the mass amount of blood.

 

With a sweep of the hand in a broad, firm zig-zag formation, she made sure the magic worked, putting her blood into it and taking the energy given out.

 

White came into her mind – _Kine blood._

 

It worked, good.

 

But this was an unfortunately small bit of magic, intended to be localised to one small sample. A frown of concentration alit on her features. She tried once more, vibrating the mass of blood harder when hit with the magic and that vibration sent out masses of information back, a Mexican wave of magic making the blood flow and flare out its' energy. Taxing, but at the sight of this large puddle filled with nothing but white glow of kine energy, she went onto the next section. There was kindred energy somewhere, damnit, and she was going to kick the arse of whatever kindred would fuck up the Masquerade this bad.

 

And the next.

 

And the next.

 

And the ne-

 

There, a blip of colour other than white near the sarcophagus that she determinedly ignored for now despite every part of her wanting to look at it properly and fully. The purple-red of a singular aggressive kindred popped up, slightly shinier than the other blood around it. She smiled, coming around to the side of the pool of blood closest to the energy. A sample bottle scooped it up, and she closed the bottle lid tight for further research. More searching around the cargo ship showed only this blood. A thrill went through her as she looked at the main piece. Now to look at the coffin! A few steps and she was close to it, silently taking out a camera form her bag and taking pictures of it from every angle, close and far. With a tilt of the head, she wondered which people this came from. Babylonian? Further back and Mesopotamian? Or was that too far and this type of sarcophagus wasn’t in line with them?

 

She also noted the handprints, prominently on the piece.

 

Kine blood, mixed with kindred. Same feeling and aura as the blood she had and didn’t bother collecting from the sarcophagus. there was no other energy. But... She had to make sure with other senses. Not just blood magic. So then she sniffed it, and grimaced after. A dead body _for sure_ had been here, decomposing for centuries and making her want to hack up the last blood she drank. Then she focused on the sarcophagus with her own Malk power of Insight, getting back very interesting results that had her instantly backing up. Recently opened by kindred who’d done all this murdering, who’d done gosh knows what with the body... and she backed up because the presence of gluttonous amounts of explosives was beyond alarming.

 

Who was this going to?

 

Regardless, whoever had done this had insanely ripped the Masquerade open. Coppers talked of superstitious things on this ship as she had passed them. That wasn’t allowed. She was aligned with no one but Beckett (and perhaps Nines what with how Soulmates seemed to work so instantly, damn her cursed blood) but she kept some things as law, and the big one was no Masquerade breaking. The amount of times she and Beckett had to run because of some idiot kindred they’d worked with giving them away or having hunters from bloody _Societies_ come after them was far too high for her not to get pissed off at relatively medium levelled infractions.

 

This?

 

This was shitting on their secrecy.

 

She read the police report and the ship manifesto, taking photos of each, had to take an hour on and off of changing up reports on the computer when guards came to search the place, and left the cargo ship.

 

Now to go around Downtown feeling out auras.

 

But after a small break at a certain half-owned destinations of hers.

 

.

 

Confession was a club that admittedly Ivy loved.

 

The beautiful church architecture that had been repurposed with hedonistic intentions, the pounding rock music she’d loved pumping as she watched it evolve into the thrashing or symphonic sounds it had become, the voluptuous owner that charmed and delighted six days a week... _Glorious_. It was a great hangout, and there were private booths overlooking the main cross-shaped hall, triple glazed windows able to be open to watch over the scene and closed to keep some music out for talking.

 

And Ivy had her own fancy little booth she favoured and was lucky enough (alright, a silently invested partner enough) to have her own kept one. Red walls, black carpets, leather seats and glass tables and cabinets filled with booze. She would take back kine to have them drink and feast on them, getting alcohol that way. Which is where she was now, leaning out of the window in a leather jacket and a lingerie-corset that bared a nice amount of cleavage. Her shorts had space between the stockings held up by suspender belts and boots that laced up to just under her knees. She felt able to go on the prowl for a human when dressed as such and was wanting a nice slow suck on a neck rather than a back behind the alley drinking down just for the sake of ease.

 

A smile of rouge, and she left, sleeking through masses to find someone that appealed for her. Beckett had teased her for her almost Ventrue pickiness. But even he had to admit she found the best ones for them, rich in iron and healthy. Her eyes took one in, and she smiled his way, quirking brow and tilting her head coyly. It had him almost helplessly coming over, deep brown eyes taking her in hungrily. She nodded behind her and moved on her way back upstairs, letting laughs entice him forward and into her little room. She sat on her almost throne like chair, plush velvet something to relax into and grinned up at him.

 

“You are beautiful…”

 

Her lips twitched. “You know, your mouth could show me in other ways than talking.”

 

His grin widened. “Scott,” He said, kneeling down before her, hands on her knees and about to part them, “I want to hear you scream my name.”

 

“I don’t.”

 

Both of them snapped their heads up.

 

Nines was glowering down at the male, grabbing him harshly by the neck, chucking him out and slamming the door closed in one fell swoop. He turned to her, gaze intense. “From a kine? Really?”

 

“I am not so far gone to recall I was one once, hm?” Ivy grinned at him, not moving from her seat. “A lady has needs, and mine have never wavered like other kindred seems to have done. Now, you’ve both lost me something eating me out and me getting my own meal. Exactly how do you propose to make it up to me?”

 

He came over instantly, eyes trailing down her body, lingering on the thigh bared above her stockings. That was hot. He liked the look of that. But so had others. Territorial instincts rode up as he took in the woman his beast was beyond sure belonged to him. Knuckles with light scarring, a muscled body, curves that had him salivating somehow, and an overwhelming need to touch her. To taste. To take and _keep_.

 

Gods, what was this?

 

Nines was taken over by the thought of her whenever she was around, barely able to think of anything or anyone else. Problems like the plaguebearer or the unrest of Camarilla against Kuei-Jin fled his mind. All he could think of was her before him. “Taking my rightful place between your legs instead of that dirty piece of scum kine. He dared to put his hands on you.” The man strode over, chucking his loose shirt over the back of a chair. He saw it thrilled her, making her giddy with anticipation and she swallowed when he sunk to his knees, hands sliding up the back of her knees slowly. He wanted to take his time touching her, tempting and enjoying the way her face changed. He grabbed the zips of the boots, pulling them down and taking her feet out. “Take your jacket off.”

 

Wordlessly, she followed his order.

 

It pleased him, and his beast came to the surface in a rumble that vibrated his chest. A few twists of his fingers, and her shorts were next to go. His eyes greedily took her in, splayed before him like sex incarnate as she smiled at her with luscious red lips full of lasciviousness, and he groaned, unable to help but touch by grasping under her knees and running his thumbs above her knees. She was magnificent, and he could feel his cock strain against his jeans in a way that hadn't happened for centuries. He wanted her taste on his tongue, so he ducked his head down, pulling her legs apart and pulling her closer to the edge of the chair. His tongue licked broadly over her silk covered mound and the sucking in of a gasp had him smirking.

 

"You really wanted some kine when you could have had me?"

 

"You do make a point."

 

"Remember that."

 

It made her laugh, until she hummed as he ran fingers over her.

 

Each touch of his skin of her had flickers of want coiling in him, teasing his beast that wanted to take _now_.

 

Instead he went to drink her nectar up. His tongue licked again, settling over her clit and roaming a tongue over the hardened nub. He roamed it in circles, flicks, soaking the front of her lingerie before he had enough of a diluted flavour. They were ribboned at the side, and he undid them, pulling them away and shoving them in a pocket before turning his attention to the hairless pussy before him. She smelt so good, so tangy, he ducked his head in. He groaned loudly along with her, his body fully giving a hearty tremble at the first taste of her. Blood mixed with feminine juices that send sparks of molten fever-need going down his throat, a potent mix that only had him eager for more.

 

Ivy was in heaven right now, music pounding her sense as heavily as blood zinged through her. His touch on any part of her sent flares of heat through her. His mouth was happily going to town on her, groaning. And his rumbling body only vibrated like a sex toy. Her hands held the back of the chair and she went to pull him forward more with her legs, wanting to put them over his shoulders to wrap around his neck to keep him there, but a large, dominating growl and tightening of the hands on her knees had her whimpering and simply shifting her hips, feeling the build-up.

 

But it was his eyes pinning her into place in a hard look from between her legs that had her stilling and accepting his reigning actions.

 

Satisfied she would not be opposing his lead in this, he went back to enjoying her fully, tasking her flavour down his throat it mini swallows that had him sucking her clit harder. Her sighs and sounds were music to his ears, and he was sure she didn’t even realise she was making them. Twisting his body so one thigh was pinned to the side, his forearm lay over her hip and his thumb came out to play with her clit and his tongue delved deep into her pussy, shifting her so her hips were rolled  up to he body more and his tongue could go deeper. This seemed to be the position to trigger her orgasm, because the flood of juices with blood had him grounding headily and loud.

 

“Fuck, Nines!”

 

Masculine satisfaction rushed through him.

 

And then he continued, wanting to know if the rumours of vampire sex were true – that human stamina and orgasm where nothing compared to kindred's. That it didn’t matter if he came, blood could simply harden him up once more. It’s not like he could get her pregnant so he would delight in his come soaking her and dripping from her like a waterfall. Soon enough, her fingers were buried in his hair and she was crying out his name again, bent over him.

 

Good.

 

He loved that she didn't take her time letting go, that her mind was so on this, on _him_ that she could come easily. He licked his lips, beard smelling of pussy as he rubbed her inner thighs, glad to have her body washed in his scent, bathing with his aura touching her as she relaxed back into the chair. Her gaze was on him alone, half-lidded, lips parted, chest heaving and looking thoroughly pleased. “You look fucking magnificent.” Her lips curled up and giving him a gentle look as she touched his cheek, melting his heart. He caught her hand with the most delicate of touches and kiss her wrist with a feather light touch. “Everything calls in me that you are mine... I don't... What the hell is this that I want you and-”

 

“And wants to give yourself to me, yes? That it doesn't matter we don't know each other? I feel it as well.”

 

“It can’t be, can it?" his grasp tightened on her. "A bond even Caine was not blessed with?”

 

"it can, and is. What else could it be when I want you so bad?"

 

"And without ending." His fingers dug into her flesh, feeling only the need to touch her and keep her close. His head came up, ducking to nuzzle into her neck and lick up, making her sigh. “I just want to run my tongue all over you, keep you, make sure you and everyone else know whose you are and what we have. Can I have you?”

 

Ivy grinned and drawled out, “Oh yes.I'd be happy to have you. You are rather cute." His snort made her grin. "Nines… I’ll be sure to have you take me against most places in Los Angeles, if you don’t mind.”

 

He snickered, nipping at her neck and making a little squeak come from her throat. “Not in the slightest, woman. Now, come,” He remarked and lifted her up, sitting down after her undid his jeans, letting his hard cock bob out, “Sit on my cock so I can fuck more orgasms out of you, Ivy.” Happily, she held onto his shoulders as he angled his thick cock against her pussy and she slowly sunk down on him. Each inch was heaven to his mind, hands gripping her hips enough to bruise her pale flesh that was heated from these acts. None of it felt against his vampiric nature like people dictated to him over the decades, and he wondered if they’d ever even tried.

 

When Ivy sunk down fully, she was about to take control until she realised he’d have none of that, lifting her himself and plunging her back down sharply, making her cry out and his own grunt to join her. She peered up at him, mouth in an small open ‘o’ of pleasure, and his smirk was gone, with only intense lust there, jaw grit and gaze focused. “Nines? Don’t you want me-ngh!- riding you and setting the pace?”

 

He put his booted feet on the table before them with the glass of blood on it so he could plough up into her when he pulled her down. “No. I take control. Maybe on a special occasion you can take control. Now, kiss me.” He groaned into her mouth when her hands grasped his cheeks and did as he said immediately, pleasing him and his beast that was close to frenzying with how good it felt. Hell, he wondered if he shouldn’t let his beast come out. He groaned as he came, pumping her, and painting her white from the inside. He growled out little rumbles with each thrust of his balls expelling his spunk into her, claiming her from the inside.

 

But he didn’t let up with his thrusting, his clothes annoying him enough to have him say, “Fuck yourself on my cock for a moment, woman mine.” He ripped off his vest, undoing his boots and leaning her back to do so. He sucked her breast, pulling up the flesh out of her corset with his teeth and tugged a nipple into his mouth, flicking it. He had her keening out when he nipped, boots flying off and jeans following, never bothering with boxers. He hefted her against him, striding over to the wall and slamming his cock into her as he shoved her hard against the red painted wall, aiming in a few different areas until she began making little sounds and smirking when he found the spot that had her crying out on each thrust before her cute little fangs nipped up his neck.

 

The slight pain in his neck had him humming in appreciation, winding him up and making his beast think of this as a bit of rebellion against his demands.

 

She dared to bite back?

 

It had him employing his speed harder and more powerfully into her drenched pussy until she fluttered around him and gushed over his cock, head coming back, and he couldn’t help but join her in coming, kissing up her pretty neck so open to him. Pleasure burst and smashed around him, pulsing powerfully until it slowed to float around him. For a few moments, he gently nuzzled into her, feeling her become more and more his with each slow thrust into her slicked with his seed, with each kiss, with each moment in his arms that she belonged. He’d have to look after her properly, find a little apartment that would be safe for her to stay in and could be easily guarded. His beast demanded this protection of her, and so would he fulfil his need.

 

Her arms around him tightened, and he loved her body against his, clinging to him, knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

 

Wanting more, he pulled off the corset on her, liking the skin on skin contact and feeling her soft flesh against his. “Ready for more?”

 

Eagerness lit up face up. “Yes, please!”

 

He laughed, nuzzling into her cheek. “A bed would be good.”

 

Ivy nodded at a wall with a chain on it. “Pull that and one will unfold down. This is my room, I’m a silent partner here. About time I took advantage of the bed.”

 

.

 

It was the next day, having spent the whole night and most of the next day with his cock in some orifice of hers, and sleeping halfway through the next night that he awoke.

 

And she was gone.

 

It paralysed him for a second, the rage, the fear and the worry of her not by his side hitting him swiftly and overwhelming his reasonable mind. He grabbed his clothes and pulled them on, only for a dazed man to come in, with Ivy behind him. His emotions went to anger quickly. “Ivy!”

 

“I got us dinner. I was just about to wake you up with breakfast in bed.” Her brow rose, not appreciating such vehement tones against her.

 

He felt pissed off by himself at that, glowering to the side. “Right, sorry. I…” He watched as some of the cutest fangs he’d seen sunk into the kine’s neck and felt both a mix of arousal at her feeding, and annoyance that she was putting lips on anyone else than him. Knowing it was stupid of him to think that, he joined in on the feed. He was doing his best in ignoring the pulsing thought that only he would drink, and then allow her to suckle on his neck for sustenance when he pulled back as she did. Her tongue slicking up the punctures had him hardened in a second. He pushed the man back, uncaring of his slumped form on the floor in favour of the woman before him, entrancing him.

 

He went forward and kissed her, instantly washing away the irritable smell of kine on her with his own kindred scent. His hands went to her arse, pulling her close to him. “I want to fuck you so bad, woman mine.”

 

“I was just thinking the same thing. Doggy please?”

 

Nines had a little smirk on his face. “Whatever you want, V.”

 

.

 

Despite how useful the room was, Nines at least had to make a pit-stop at the Last Round before the sun came up in a few hours.

 

“Come with me to Anarch base,” He tempted, rubbing his hand along her thigh.

 

“Can’t. I have things to do around downtown.” Ivy grabbed her jacket and put it on. “I’m a busy lady, Nines, can’t be having magnificent sex in a club all night. If I can, I’ll stop by the Last Round. See you soon, lover.” A smile and she was gone, under Obfuscation.

 

That was too soon for his beast and senses. Wanting to have had one last touch, he left, trying to track her down, but club and perspiring humans and hard music was not exactly conducive to it. A shake of the head in irritation and he left the club, striding away through back streets to get to base. Within a short amount of time, he was back in the Last Round, with demanding Anarchs wanting to know where the hell he’d been.

 

“Got a woman.”

 

“Woman?”  Smiling Jack did as his name suggested and he sniffed, before cackling. “You’re reeking of her, ahaha! Didn’t think you’d be the type of kindred to go for it! Good on you, man, keep it up!”

 

His own smirk rose.

 

“She gonna be Anarch, too?” Damsel asked, glaring at him for worrying her and finding out he was getting his kicks was pissing her off. Something in her flared in anger that some woman got his teeth and nails into him, that Nines looked pleased as hell with himself, partly wished she’d pushed forth her crush on him if this is the reaction she could have had. Too late, and he looked love-sick at the thought of her. More than jealousy, she just wanted to know who and if she was good for the leading man and Anarch's in general.

 

Nines paused at that.

 

Perhaps he should have gotten more information on her before having her in all ways all over that room?

 

Nah.

 

“Don’t know. All I know is that she’s not Camarilla or Sabbat.”

 

“Who is it?” Skelter asked in a rough tone.

 

“Ivy Montgomery.”

 

Unexpectedly, Damsel had heard of her though never met, only hearing about her from the wolf man’s own proud lips some years back. “Beckett’s childe?”

 

That got Nines attention. “Yeah? If she’s associated with him, then that’s damn good for us. She doesn’t seem Gangrel.” He frowned. “Either way. She’s mine now and if I can I’ll get her on our side.”

 

Smiling Jack hummed at that. “Don’t think it’s gonna be easy. Beckett ain’t gonna recruit anyone that has attachments like Cammy or whatever on his side. He’s got guts to fly solo from the sects. Heard he had some fledgling with him for years. If it is her, then it's good she ain't gonna be a toady cammy.” Jack kept his thoughts on autarkis and Beckett to himself. Because if it was that one's childe, she wasn't gonna be sticking around. But that was for them to deal with.

 

Nines nodded. “She might be around tonight. Anyway, business, what’s the word on the street?”

 

.

 

Ivy huffed when she’d prowled a third of Downtown to carefully take in scent and found nothing.

 

No kindred with the same aura.

 

Of course, they could have moved on, but these things left traces. She wasn’t anything but thorough in her search and would go through the rest of Downtown tomorrow.

 

Maybe something would come up.

 

Her nose twitched, and she smiled at Nines as he found her, leaning against the brick wall of an alleyway with his arms crossed, checking her out in her usual hoodie, leather jacket and skirt combo. He seemed fine, not gotten into any trouble, and she turned back to what she was doing, zig-zagging magic into the air before her and finding nothing but the after effects of kine. Kindred did have their auras leave quicker, and honestly, she could have missed it. something that would infuriate her. It already pissed her off that a kindred went riotous on a boat. This just needled at her.

 

“You a Tremere?”

 

“No, Malk.”

 

Nines raised his brows at that. He’d found his own in a Malkavian? He wondered if that said something about him. Then he thought on the rumours of Malkavian’s and found himself pleased to have one of the Seers. They were more inside focused and mentally focused rather than the aggressive outgoing actions of one of his kind. “Good.” He found himself with an armful of woman suddenly, feeling her arms sleek around him and under his vest, burrowing her face into his chest. His beast rumbled happily, making her giggle and hold onto him tighter. A small smile was on his face. “Miss me or something?”

 

“Yeah, surprisingly.”

 

He pinched her rear in return, making her squeak, and was only slightly taken aback when she jumped up and slunk her legs around his waist instead. Taking the hint, he kissed her hard, pushing her back against the wall as she undid his belt and button, unzipping him and with only the quickest of tests for her wetness, shoved himself inside her with a groan and her pelvic muscles contracted and gripped his cock so vice-like his eyes rolled for a moment. She was so hot and wet for him. How had he missed this already? He thrust up into her, enjoying the keening sound she made as he set up a hard pace. They’d literally had sex six hours ago after not having sex for decades – to want it so badly he’d already been thinking about it the moment he saw her again was almost appalling.

 

He lifted her leg up a little until she was groaning, burying her face in his neck.

 

Shit just how was it possible to- he choked as she clenched hard over him suddenly, her orgasm unexpected, and it had him coming in turn.

 

Man. Maybe he should be more appalled at his stamina.

 

Glad to think forward, he took out a pack of tissue from his pocket as he pulled his cock out, the coolness hitting the wet heat of his cock and nearly making him hiss. He cleaned her up of his spend first while he didn’t let her go, kissing her as he cleaned himself. He settled against her afterwards, tossing the tissue away in a bin next to them. “What were you doing?”

 

“A mixture of aura detection and tissue sampling detection. I’m looking for a kindred.”

 

“Any leads?”

 

“No. So, ah, figured I might as well indulge and abate my aggravations from lack of results with you. Hope you don’t mind?”

 

“Anytime, woman.”

 

The pair grinned at each other.

 

"Say, want to learn how to search like I am with Tremere blood magic?"

 

Nines raised his brows at her getting those secrets but nodded. "Sounds good. How'd you get that knowledge?"

 

"My adoptive sire Beckett and faking it with the apprentice Tremere kindred."

 

He half adored that little smug grin. "Caine, am I supposed to want you this much?"

 

"If it's half as much as my want then I'll have to say yes lest I go crazy."

 

It's then they went all over the area, searching and fucking.

 

Nothing.

 

Nines arms went around her. “Come back to my apartment. I’ll help you tomorrow?”

 

Ivy smiled. “I’d like that.”

 

.

 

From a distance via camera’s, the Nosferatu looked at each other as the duo left the alley.

 

“How much can one vampire couple fuck?”

 

Gary snickered at Mitnick’s almost jealous tone. “They got lucky, kiddo. Just enjoy the free smut happening all over the place.” And really, it _was_ all over the place. For the last two weeks, all these two seemed to do was search for something, feed and fuck. Several times a day if they could.

 

“That bitch got lucky getting Nines,” Imalia huffed, arms crossed. “Guy’s righteous, hot, and passionate. What a guy.”

 

“More like that asshole Nines got lucky,” Mitnick corrected. “Imagine getting hold of someone with her skillset?”

 

“Fuckin’ perv.”

 

“What? Shut up, Imalia! I meant her training under Beckett! That kindred's a legend!”

 

“ _Sure_ you did.”

 

Barabus inserted, “Man, us Nossies could get some serious power and clout with her Malk abilities though. And yeah, what a body. Just think about how easily she could kick our asses…”

 

“Ugh!”

 

Gary rolled his eyes, looking at the camera stream as the two lovers disappeared, hands held.

 

Cute.

 

Wouldn’t stop him from using them should it come up, but cute anyway.

 

Ain’t often he saw a true bond (hell, it was beyond rare, like winning the lottery) and his whimsical, romance-loving self adored it. For the sake of young love, he’d keep this vids private for only the Nosferatu to know about. But that’s it. He’d sell the information of them together though. That was a given. the vids, no, what they did, yes. Just for the sake of romance. He was sure Prince LaCroix would like to know about Nines dalliances.

 

.

 

Waking up by hands caressing her, Ivy felt her beast instantly pour blood into her body to prep her for rutting.

 

“I’m going to be feeding twice as much, I can tell.”

 

“Hm?” Nines inquired as he opened her legs and let his mouth be busy.

 

She sighed at the first lick. “Blood instantly goes south, lover, not saving up.”

 

“Same. We’ll feed after I eat.”

 

Her giggles lasted until he slid a finger in and she gasped.

 

In no time at all, they were draining a few humans, and about to begin teaching him to use blood magic, a young Anarch came up, needing him to sort out a fight.

 

Ivy grinned up at him, knowing that he’d wanted to get a little action before they fully began investigations. “You do you, Anarch Baron.”

 

Nines scowled at her. “Baron? Get out of here with that shit.”

 

A laugh, and caressing his stomach as she passed, she went on to a different section of Downtown via the rooftops.

 

The unofficial Anarch Baron didn’t realise he was half smiling, arms crossed as he watched her go.

 

“Is that her?” The Anarch asked, his brown eyes alight on the woman disappearing from view across the street. “Beckett’s childe?”

 

He didn’t like her known as some other man’s anything, no matter how respected they were. “They’re not sire and childe. She’s Malkavian. Yeah, that’s Ivy. She’s ever in trouble, you all help her.”

 

“Got it, boss.”

 

Nines scowled at the young Brujah running away but said nothing, wondering if he should be the Anarch leader if it meant better protection for Ivy. He knew eyes were on her, rumours of them abound. he both loved that they knew she was his, and hated that eyes were on her.

 

.

 

The autarkis decided to end up in the Last Round area, not to join in on bar happenings or see Nines, but to simply put her scent around it to tease him.

 

It was only idly doing magic to detect him that she stiffened.

 

Him.

 

The one who’d done the act of Masquerade slashing on the Elizabeth Dane.

 

Righteous anger rose up as she entered the bar.

 

Wait.

 

Smiling Jack?

 

He grinned as he saw her, and then cackled, pissing her off. “If it ain’t our honourable Anarch!”

 

Him?!

 

Wasn't he centuries old?!

 

Infuriated, she narrowed her gaze on him. “ _You_ , motherfucker!” She hissed, striding over to him in his corner. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

 

Affronted, he stood up taller. “The hell is your problem, Malk? Didn’t Nines fuck you happy?”

 

“You, obviously, or did that somehow pass you by?” She snarked out, glowering up at him and then her tone lowered. “At least _I’ve_ been fucking about with the _right_ undead!”

 

Realisation hit him at what she was saying. “That’s got nothin’ to do with you!”

 

“Fuck you, bastard, almost breaking the veneer of Masquerade is enough for it to have something to do with all of us! I had to edit _reports_ because your wretched arse was _seen!_ I should take my payment on keeping you and the Masquerade safe out on your _goddamn hide!_ ”

 

“Oh, you wanna go, puppy?”

 

“Gladly, old fool.”

 

In no time at all, they were around the back, and blood pumped as they went for each other, Ivy’s five decades of dedicated near on daily martial training and fighting easily holding back and overwhelming Smiling Jack’s effective but more brute forces centuries. His alarm at each block, miss and strafing that she did had him on edge as she slammed a fist into his side. It was filled with the Potence of one of his kind, and realised she’d had far more disciplines under her belt that he’d given her credit for. Especially when even in his supreme speed she simply matched him. “How the fuck?!” That had him taking a punch to the face that sent him sprawling to the ground.

 

Ivy watched as he got back up again. “Fighting’s been the _only_ thing I was superior at when compared with a master researcher like my sire. You think he'd keep around some untalented nobody?” She ducked his punch, grasping onto his arm and leaping up to kick him in the face. It sent him flying back though she hadn't put her full might into it, slamming painfully on the ground. “Speed, strength and stamina enhancement may be your kin’s _natural_ ability, but it isn’t yours _alone_ in the slightest. It just comes easier to you. Now, Malk abilities, and teasing out Tremere secrets… that _is_ a bit more limited as to who can use it, no?” She idly watched as he got up, half impressed.

 

Jack grimaced, bloodied and banged up while she looked fresh as a daisy. “Beckett taught you well.”

 

“Yes.” She deflected his next sudden punch and with a swirl, elbowed him in the kidney, because though weak points on kin might not be as powerful, they still sucked to be attacked at regardless. Her own lack of awareness of his claws as he was hit away had her hoodie slashed in three places, as well as her upper arm. She scowled at herself for it. “Fuck, that’s annoying.”

 

“A hit? Then fuck I’m done! You win, I got one in without you murderin’ me,” He grumbled, stopping from stumbling. “I get the hint, no fuckin’ about on your territory.”

 

“Good, because that was a fun bit of play. And yeah, mine, because body guarding and fighting is all I've ever been good at for decades, and Nines is gonna be looked after from me. Now, we’re gonna have a drink of blood all civil-like, and you’re gonna tell me what the hell you’re thinking.”

 

And Smiling Jack did, wondering if Nines had any idea of what a powerful little piece he’d just gotten landing on his lap like he'd just stolen the Golden Goose.

 

Ivy enjoyed the glass of red at the back of the upper level with Jack. She was incredulous with his idea, thinking him an idiot, but at hearing him want to rile up the kindred, to change things up as they all felt the tempers simmer, she could kind of understand. All of the sects were clearly unhappier here than many other places she’d been, and Kuei-Jin only served to compound that issue. LaCroix was a power-monger with a touch too much Ventrue in him and the Camarilla coming in to take over what was relatively peaceful had the Anarch's up in arms. Not that she had much love for the Anarch's either. As far as she could tell, all they’d done was huff and puff and do nothing to kick the Camarilla out.

 

Then there was the Sabbat being the bastards they were spewing on about, ugh, _Gehenna this_ and _Gehenna that_ ; it was enough to drive any logical kindred away from Los Angeles.

 

So that something was done, even if it was the Dane, she got it.

 

Didn’t like it, but got it.

 

“Do something like that to get the kine up in arms again and I’m tearing a limb off. You know the ratio of them to us is nothing short of a death penalty should they know. That was a bloodbath, you insane bastard.”

 

“Hehe. Yeah, it sure was, ahaha!” He cackled in his wheezing way, pleased at her grimace, and that they sorted this out. “Needed ta be.”

 

“Unfortunately.” She grimaced.

 

“Why you so angry about it anyway? Ain’t like you got a sect.”

 

“My sect is kindred. That’s all you need to know. I don’t roll with any of you sods – yeah, yeah, but for Nines. Laugh it up, fuzzy bastard.”

 

"I like ya! Nines got lucky-"

 

“What about me?”

 

The two, having been far too involved with this conversation, jerked and looked up. Both of them then peered at one another, knowing they felt each other the biggest threat and hadn't paid attention elsewhere. Something that galled them both.

 

Nines looked between them looking all irritable. His eyes narrowed. “Well?”

 

“Back early, huh?” Smiling Jack jeered, knocking his drink back. “Want your little wifey?” He reached out to squeeze a cheek of hers, laughing when she shallowly stabbed him with her claws in his hand and he let go. “Feisty, ain’t she?”

 

“Shut up, you malcontent,” Ivy snapped, but there was a little grin growing on her face. “I’ll throw you about the back alleyway again if you want to continue?”

 

Nines didn't know if he should be protective or not at that.

 

“Think that’s boss here’s want,” Jack retorted slapping Nines on the shoulder and leaving with a parting, “You got lucky as hell, Nines!”

 

The Brujah watched the other go with a narrow-eyed gaze before turning to his lady, sitting close to her and slinking an arm around her waist to shuck her up close. “Back alleyways?”

 

“Found who I was looking for and kicked his arse for nearly breaking the Masquerade.”

 

Rage went through him. “He fought with you because he-?!” He got up with an angry screech of stool sliding along floor, but Ivy grabbed onto him.

 

“I started it. I won it. It’s done. Just… just drink with me?”

 

Nines let it go for now, her touch calming him a moment. “Fine. So what’re your plans now?”

 

“Well there’s this man I’m seeing quite a lot of recently who I thought might want to see more of me should he like to?”

 

The Anarch leader smirked, and spirited away with her before any problems could distract them.

 

.

 

The next night, Nines straight out punched the Smiling Brujah across the room.

 

Jack groaned. “Knew it was coming, hurts like a bitch anyway. Fuck you both,” He muttered without any ardour, getting up and stumbling to a sticky table.

 

“Good. Try and fight her again and we’ll see what happens.”

 

“Possessive prick.”

 

“Yeah, I am. Remember that.”

 

The other Anarch's looked at each other, brows raised high and disbelieving at the act.

 

Yeah, his lady would get extra protection just for their own sanity.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to those who gave happiness to this fic! It made me smile. Hope this chapter was good for you x


	3. The Touch

 

.

 

“Hey, newbie,” Ivy called down from the balcony, waving at him.

 

The Camarilla gopher looked up, a frown on his face. "What?"

 

“Want some help with the Sarcophagus?”

 

He sneered. “Like I’d want _you_ taking the credit?”

 

She raised her brows at that. “How very kindred of you. Shamefully so. What if the _credit_ is the destruction of what’s inside?”

 

He frowned up at her. “What do you mean?”

 

Ivy leaned on the rail, warning, “Thing’s’ll go boom if you open it, kid. Here’s my one stringent advice. _Don’t open it_. Got it?" She saw him frown. "Once more, perhaps, so it sinks in? _Do not open it_ or suffer the consequences of an explosion.” With that, she left, considering herself done with him.

 

The fool listened or didn’t.

 

.

 

Ivy shook her head as the Camarilla gopher entered the museum, knowing that the Nosferatu trio she’d watched had escaped with the sarcophagus an hour ago.

 

For now, she’d wait, wondering if her source was right about who was in there.

 

To her joy it was, and she waved down at her sire from up above on the roof of the building opposite it. This time in a tight black blouse, red and black plaid short-shorts and her usual black boots, she shoved hands into the pockets of her brown leather jacket and simply looked at him when he came up to her. The pair took each other in, almost contemplative. Beckett hadn’t changed at all in his old dig site clothing and long duster, hair and sunglasses the same as always, but Ivy knew she had.

 

“Hello, love,” Beckett opened up with, and soon found himself with an armful of happily crying woman. He chuckled and held her tight, having missed her deeply, swaying her from side to side. Even if she completely stunk of some male. He would ask about that later, knowing she washed daily, even though kindred bodies didn’t sweat and had no need to wash so committedly. “Like the first time I met you, you’re crying. I hope that hasn’t been all you’ve been doing since parting from me?" He snarked, "I know it is quite the devastation to be away from me, but still.”

 

“Oh, you know, I'm doing the usual, solving world problems,” She retorted and grinned up at him, “Could even teach you a few things, old dog.”

 

He tutted. “This old dog taught you your tricks.”

 

“And I’ve got a few to teach you, if you’re _still_ puzzling over the box. On that note, don’t go near it, Beckett.”

 

Red eyes stared down at her as he held her. “No? Such a tempting morsel, for me not to bite?”

 

“It’s a poisonous bite, my dear sire. Come back to mine for the day. I’ll tell you all about it.” Ivy tempted, and Beckett nodded, following her as she went. Not far, only a few streets away, Ivy went into her relatively nicely furnished apartment, passing him a spare key from the bowl next to the door. “You can have the guest room for when you stay in Los Angeles. Not that I would ever dare insinuate such a thing, but if you ever get caught out too late, I also have a room in Confession, the church turned club in Downtown.”

 

Beckett chuckled, looking around at the welcoming feeling of her place in soft oranges and warm brown wood furniture. He definitely approved of the bookcase overflowing to the side of the comfy looking sofa. “I am glad you think highly of me not to be caught out. Not that you shouldn’t, of course. I am rather renowned and well-regarded.”

 

“As is the ego, I hear,” She returned with a grin.

 

He snorted, swiping at her and she dodged. “Tell me of the sarcophagus, you troublesome thing.”

 

“Short answer? It’s a kindred starting problems in this city that is already an almost over-boiled pot. Your historical and research side may be pleased to find out I’ve done next to no information hunting on it, and don’t know who was in it, let alone much of the history of the box.” She went over to her desk with the computer on it and took out her camera from a drawer. “Here. I took pictures of it when I was on the Dane a week ago.” She turned it on, pulling up the pictures and handed it over to him.

 

He silently took it, flicking through them. “And what did you find out?”

 

“The corpse inside was replaced by a load of C4 likely ready to detonate when opened. It was placed there by Smiling Jack, a Brujah of about four to five hundred years old. I’d traced down his energy with a new little Tremere trick up my sleeve from finding it on the Dane, and then searching all over town to lock down on who it was as rumours started there. Yet…” She frowned. “It doesn’t feel like that’s the whole story.”

 

Beckett looked up. “No?”

 

“I feel like my instincts saying there’s something missing. Not the history of it but… Some angle.”

 

"The history, or...?"

 

"No, something about how it popped up so suddenly."

 

“Was it Jack alone who did this?”

 

That was an idea.

 

She thought on it, going a bit into her Malk senses and the Network. It’s then her whispers in her head started shrieking and rotted fear pounded through her, making her shake and whimper. She held her head between both hands, fingers digging into her head, with Beckett quickly coming to put a supporting hand on her shoulder. “No, and it’s something that terrifies the Network, though they don’t know what! Almost a base, instinctive fear of, uh, of…” Confusion lit her features, unsure. “I don’t know what. What on earth can terrify a kindred more that their innate fear of sun and fire?” She swallowed.

 

“The Network?”

 

“Yes, all of us who heard my thought in the Network all had the same shared response.” She let go of her head, standing up straight and staring out of the window with a furrowed brow. “More than anything we’ve gone through, this has terrified me and my people. Beckett. Don’t go near it. Perhaps let this one mystery go. It’s best for us all to run from it. But maybe that makes you want to figure it out like it does me?” She rubbed her eyes with one hand. “Whoever Jack conspired with this… It’s low generation. Too low. Fourth, third... Likely to be...” Then she paused and astonishment came to her features. “He doesn’t wish harm though. He wants to know whether to resuscitate it or let it die off.”

 

“Let what die off?” Beckett asked warily.

 

Ivy put a hand to her mouth, eyes wide. “Kindred.”

 

“A portent of the future?”

 

“Portent? More like a straight up answer, Becks. You know I don’t subscribe to this Gehenna nonsense. But I’m going to be watching this closely now the Network goes riot over him.” Her lips pursed. “Perhaps we can make some headway into this. I think he wants to be found out.” Her eyes went to his, excitement coming in. “And now you’re here-”

 

“Who better than us to do so?” Beckett finished for her, with his own little smirk. “Tomorrow we begin.”

 

.

 

Nines was getting aggravated from lack of finding his partner these last few nights.

 

So when Ivy entered the Last Round, he was on her almost instantly, plucking her up and taking her away. He ignored the whistles and calls at his actions, didn’t lock eyes with any of his Anarchs, and took her upstairs to the roof of the bar. He didn’t let her go, slumping against a chimney spout with her in his lap. “Where the fuck have you been? Who is it I scent on you?”

 

A sheepish grin lit her features. “Been dealing with that sarcophagus issue with my sire, Beckett.”

 

Understanding rose in him as he ran a hand up and down her side, but his beast still didn’t like her with any male that wasn’t him. “That wolf’s still in town?”

 

“Yes. As we’ve learnt different forms of magic, we’ve been teaching each other to compile our knowledge base and following up on leads to protect kindred here.”

 

Nines perked up at that, banishing his beast with some blood. “Magic?”

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you what I know after this sarcophagus business is done.”

 

That settled him. Then he asked, a bit grumpy, “And I’m guessing I won’t see you much until that happens?”

 

She nodded, a bit rueful. “You won’t. I’ve not seen my sire for decades, and we’re a bit bittersweet for the time before I left to find a haven. It was a pressing need for me to leave, as us Malkavian’s need to be in relative distance to another Malkavian to feel the connection of our Network and be at peace. There are groups in the havens I made. I’ve a place in England near my sire, and also one here, and one in Hong Kong. One wasn’t enough, obviously.”

 

“Obviously,” Nines repeated. His fingers travelled under her t-shirt. “Let me enjoy you?”

 

“I could go for a quickie.”

 

“Only a quickie?”

 

“Yes.” She kissed his jaw, nuzzling up into him and he practically melted into her. “Just that.”

 

Unhappy he could only spend a short amount of time with her, he nevertheless did all he could to draw it out, to keep her coming and full with his seed and scent. Her not-so-angry glare only made him smirk at her before he accepted the kiss she gave him. As they parted, he murmured, “Come to see me as much as you can. We’re both busy.” There was a surgence of Sabbat for some reason or another.

 

“I will. Know I’ll miss you until I see you again.”

 

"Let it be soon, V."

 

.

 

Ivy and Beckett frowned at the taxi driver before them.

 

“Rather low up, hm?” Ivy wondered of him.

 

The driver smirked at them. “Merely looking over those that are mine to look over.”

 

“One wonders who those would be?” Beckett asked.

 

“Need a lift?”

 

He didn’t get an answer, but everything in his childe was wired up and stilled as they entered, and he kept an arm around her shoulder for comfort for them both. This was a low generation. Too low.

 

Beckett frowned as they went back to Santa Monica.

 

"Remember what I said about Jack?"

 

"Smiles for more than...?" Beckett asked.

 

Ivy nodded. "Yup."

 

The too low was the Driver.

 

The pair of them kept respectful.

 

They'd both heard of the Week of Nightmares.

 

.

 

Nines slumped against her, breathing hard as he deflated in her, blood low.

 

“Too good.” Ivy sighed out happily from against the wall he held her at.

 

It made him chuckle. “You’re welcome.”

 

“Glad to be. Food?” She asked, slumping down from his hold and taking a tissue from him to clean up and then fix her clothing.

 

He was hungry for more than just her, yes. “Food.”

 

.

 

Ivy felt her beast growl at the blood hunt being called for on Nines, and Beckett looked at her.

 

“He is yours?”

 

“True bond.”

 

Beckett felt a sort of sadness in him for that, despite it being years and years since he’d loved her. But he was pleased for her, only wishing to have something like that for himself. “I am happy you have found it.”

 

Warmth was in her. “Thank you, Beckett. But now a blood hunt. I am most displeased by this.”

 

“Keep him safe, my childe.”

 

“I intend to. This dead cage will do well, I think," She said, referring to the Sarcophagus, "It will help my new plan. Keep up the pretence of not knowing, my dear sire. You’ll help me out immensely.”

 

The archaeologist tilted his head curiously.

 

.

 

Ivy let slip to the Giovanni she knew about the Ankaran Sarcophagus being worth much, using her link with the ‘renowned and well-regarded’ Beckett for validity of her word.

 

Smiling Jack may want to use it to cause unrepentant chaos without aim, but Ivy always liked being a bit more channelled in her own energy.

 

The woman ran fingers through brown-red hair as the events of the Giovanni bought it, as the Cammy gopher went off to the mansion, as he was able to charm his way around enough to get access to the sarcophagus came to her mind.

 

Going as planned.

 

Good.

 

.

 

It was the first time Ivy had come face to face with Sebastian LaCroix, and she eyed him with scrutiny. Gorgeous, in that snob look way, oozing charm that didn’t come off as slimy surprisingly enough, and yet he was a little… dishevelled from what she believed was his normal straight-laced. It seemed the thought of this Sarcophagus in his room got him jittery.

 

She’d agree that she was too, if not for the fact he was jittery for opposite reasons.

 

“This is your childe, Beckett?” Sebastian eyed her back, taking in the lower-class clothing and the grin on her face that he found both annoying and cute. “She doesn’t look Gangrel.”

 

“I am of the cracked mirror kin come to see the one I call sire, dear Prince,” She spoke, her Edinburgh tones taking his interest. “And naturally, I do adore history. Sire? Which society?”

 

“Assyrian.”

 

She ducked down before the woman on the side of the Sarcophagus. “A homage to Lamashtu?”

 

“Homage? Now that is a thought, isn’t it?” Beckett murmured out loud, standing by her side. “Lamashtu almost certainly. Drinker of blood and eater of children.”

 

She touched the outline of the woman on the sarcophagus. “Snake-people?”

 

Beckett went into thought, humming. “Yes, there is a chance that the lineage could be viable there.”

 

“Nagaraja?” Sebastian inquired, and both of them hummed at that in agreement. “Could the being inside be such?”

 

Beckett and Ivy looked at each other in contemplation.

 

“I do not think it is Lamashtu, perhaps a servant of hers? The Nagaraja like the powerful and shiny. My thoughts go to Messerach. A king of the time.” The wolf-man spoke.

 

Ivy nodded. “Nothing in me disagrees. I do not like the thought of what could be inside.” It was the only warning she’d give the blond man, turning to him. “I would not tempt fate and unseal, Prince.”

 

Sebastian ignored that blithely with a shake of his head, focusing on what he knew of the naga kin.

 

Beckett shook his head.

 

Fool.

 

Not many ignored a serious Malkavian. It was especially surprising a Venture would do so, what with the old alliance Malkavian’s once had with that Clan, so LaCroix was gone, in his mind. He peered at his apprentice, who searched him with her Malk power, and nodded grimly. A shame for the Prince then. And a shame for having to lose what was a man able to get power and hold onto it decently; a decent tool should they have needed it. But then, Ivy looked down at the sarcophagus, looked up at him, and a long, slow smile crept up her face.

 

And less of a shame the Prince had to be the one opposite Ivy’s bond, an enemy.

 

Beckett lightly touched her shoulder as she came up, and he smiled at her for her deviousness.

 

Ah, Malkavian’s.

 

He rather liked them.

 

When they weren’t focusing their madness his way, of course.

 

.

 

Ivy tilted her head at the angry woman next to them as she parted from a hug with Beckett, who was about to go on his way out of the city. They’d figured out the driver was the one terrifying the Malk network, the sarcophagus, and now Beckett wanted to follow up on some thin-blood research up north in Seattle.

 

“How’d you think Nines is gonna feel hugging up on any guy?”

 

“You know I adore the one I call sire, right? Nines will have to suck it up. Anyway, it’s not as though he won’t put his scent all over me later.” She grinned at the redhead.

 

Damsel scoffed in disgust, putting an evil glare Beckett’s way.

 

“Damsel. A pleasure as always,” Beckett drawled out. “Until later, Ivy. Stay sceptical.”

 

“Will do, Beck. Keep in touch!” Ivy gave him one last big hug, kissed him on the cheek, and smiled at the gentle caress to her cheek before he put a hand on the scarf she’d given him and left, a howl resonating in the distance. She sighed. A couple weeks was far too short a time to spend with one of her two favourite people.

 

Damsel snorted, arms crossing. “Nines is hiding, and you’re gonna be lovelorn over another man?”

 

“Watch your words, kid, I’ve always loved Beckett as my most trusted. Taught me all I knew, not that you’d care beyond what you can get aggressive at for going against you,” Ivy laughed lowly to herself.

 

“You-!” She cut herself off, realising she’d done exactly as Ivy had said.

 

Ivy raised a brow before chuckling. “I like you. But where is-?” Her head snapped around.

 

Faster than Damsel could see, the other woman had taken out a gun and shot two Sabbat in the head, a bunch of them surrounding the two women in the alleyway. Damsel put her back to Ivy, a string of fear running through her form not being prepared for such an amount. Damsel wasn’t carrying guns, but then metal was pushed into her hands and she jerked them up as the Sabbat snarled and rushed forward.

 

Stepping forth and ducking the first two coming at her, Ivy grabbed swung out two kukri from her belt to cut deep into their necks, letting the dust of them block the view of her. She stepped back as the next two came closer, only to do the exact same slice. She jerked to the right to dodged a downward swipe, quickly stabbing and twisting one kukri in the back of his head while blocking a fist with the other. Briefly looking around, she noted Damsel would soon be under duress and swiftly went forward to the others with a blank face. She didn’t rejoice in the senseless waste of life, but she wasn’t about to die because some savage Sabbat struck first. “Six!”

 

“What?!”

 

The last six dusted on her and she grabbed and pulled Damsel back before the woman could get hit from a Sabbat jumping from above that Ivy gutted upwards and was gifted by death-dust. “Mind it!”

 

“Don’t just fucking pull; I could’a killed-!!”

 

“Shut up and fire!” The Malkavian shoved her behind her and rushed forward, blood pumping her quicker than her foes and she jumped on the first to shove him down to the ground, stabbing one to the left in the head. Bullets flew over her head to one to her right. She shoved blood into her foot and slammed down onto the head, dust instantly splattering across concrete. Noting a woman coming to roundhouse kick her, she dodged to her right into a fist that was cut up by her kukri and making him yelp and pull back as the one she dodged the kick from came at her. The woman was a better fighter, but Ivy went down low and slice the tendons of her ankles.

 

Damsel shot them both, with Ivy already rushing through the falling dust low to the ground. She could barely see through this mess of dust in the air and didn’t want to shoot idly. It’s when Ivy jumped up high and hung from a ledge with a forearm momentarily to see her that Damsel shot a little wildly but straight on, and managed to get a couple of them. Ivy grinned at her proudly and pushed down to bombard her own body into the fray. “Crazy fucking bitch!”

 

A laugh and the sounds of men in pain was her reply.

 

Soon enough, Damsel heard nothing and waited until the dust settled, only to gawk at the small piles of it along the alley.

 

Ivy came out, grinning at the adrenaline buzz she’d not had for a couple years now. “Twenty-two!”

 

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

 

“You don’t play that game?”

 

Damsel just gave her a look. “Game?”

 

“Who kills more? I got twenty-two. You don’t? Huh.” Ivy said to herself as she peered around. “How strange. Beckett and I played it all the time.”

 

“All the time, what the-? Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Damsel snapped out. “Are you stupid?”

 

Ivy snorted, putting her kukri away. “Nah, just bored. So?”

 

“So, _what?_ ”

 

“How many did you kill?”

 

“Ugh, like, ten?”

 

“Not bad, kid. Now, where’s my man?”

 

Having grown in respect for her, piles of ash a testament to her, Damsel replied, “Griffith Park was-”

 

The woman sucked in a breath, snapping her head to the redhead. “Werewolf territory?!” Ivy yelped and bolted from the woman, dashing over roofs and rushing to the sky lifts.

 

Damsel blinked, then she growled at herself. “Shit, I didn’t tell her he was back!”

 

.

 

Ivy sneered down at the three bodies of werewolves, breathing hard.

 

She’d never fought one, but these motherfuckers were tough sons of bitches and she’d sustained damage for it. But, she’d had to clear out the old den just to get away from the sun and overgrowing fire happening in Griffith Park and so she’d killed her fifth werewolf in an hour. Glad she had some blood on her, she drained it, knowing she was still low and still needed to use blood to heal her. She idly wondered about the blood of werewolves. She'd seen an idiot Brujah back in England drink some and completely frenzy until he had to get staked for days on and off just to keep him contained. when he was awake and unstaked, they'd been feeding him human blood to fully dilute it. Then brave souls went in to stab him, doing this process again and again until it was fully flushed out.

 

It wasn't pretty.

 

But she was half desperate.

 

Because werewolves could travel in sunlight, and soon enough, they’d scent their dead and come investigate.

 

Ivy sat down in the cave, ruminating on what to do. She'd went deeper into the cave and sequestered herself there for some sort of protection and first attack advantage should it come to it. She looked down at the claw punctures in her thigh and winced when her dislocated shoulder throbbed in pulsing pain. With a grunt, she kneeled down in a way that was a bit uncomfortable for her bruised and banged up body, standing on her hand that was flat on the floor. She put in a random branch from the floor into her mouth. With dread and accepted fate, she pulled and twisted her arm back into the socket with a groan of pain and snapped the branch in half. She breathed heavily, having never done it to herself.

 

She was slowly bleeding out, wounds sluggishly healing up. She eyed a dead werewolf before looking away with a grimace. Nothing for it. She had to recuperate. She let herself rest for a little, dozing off as the power of the sun made her lax and sleepy even through stone and earth. It was sounds that made her jerk up, feeling it late evening, the sun still coming down. She looked at the two werewolves coming in and stayed still, hoping to be looked over as the scent of wolf was all over her and the area.

 

A growl went through the cave in a harsh echo of upcoming promised pain, and when one was close enough, she sprung into action, gutting the werewolf with her dual kukri. A shrieking dog sound of agony, and she took him out, slicing at his humungous wrist. Without hesitation, she latched onto said wrist, forcing herself to heal up as the drug-like effects of the blood kicked in. Her mind went red with the need to kill, blood fizzling and slicing through her and when the next came, her claws turned into five inch monstrosities that three slices had a head being chopped off.

 

And then more came.

 

Sliced and diced, all of them went down, with only Ivy still alive, bleeding profusely and accepting this was where she was going to die as she was unable to move.

 

At least this was after she’d re-joined with Beckett and wished him well, and had found her bond.

 

Life had been good to her at the end.

 

And… And she’d taken down half a pack of werewolves… that was… pretty neat, right?

 

She choked a laugh out.

 

The blood of wolves dripped out, and she felt like she didn’t want to die in some cave with dead bodies.

 

The sun.

 

Let her die the quickest and most natural way for a vampire.

 

Yeah.

 

Stumbling up form hands and knees, whimpering as she did so, she staggered over to the entrance, wondering when it got so far away. She went to the Network in her head, the voices so dimmed, and sent out a small bit of blood, with the message to the nearest Malkavian via the Cobweb.

 

_Sister of the moon!_ _Tell Nines goodbye. Tell him I adore him. Tell him to make the Anarchs rule over LA once again._

 

There was some alarmed reply, but Ivy couldn’t understand it, no power left.

 

Vision fading, she tripped over the corpse of a  werewolf turned back to human and breathed out, “Nines.”

 

No sun, but the trail of corpses would have her in good name after she…

 

Her eyes closed.

 

.

 

Nines paced back and forth.

 

None of the Anarchs could pull him away from the side of his barely living bond.

 

When that Malk had come, shrieking at him to go back to Griffith Park, he balked and told the woman to shove it up her arse, only for tatters of what she said to get through his mind.

 

_Wolves have attacked the adoptive child of the moonman! Your one! One is going! You must be going! Now!_

 

He’d never bolted so quick, never hated how slow the lift to Griffith Park was, never felt like he’d ever been so devastated when he’d seen her there surrounded by so many corpses of werewolves.

 

And now here he was.

 

The freshest of blood was in her from force-feeding her, but she’d been so low on it, so forcing her body to slow down the taking in of blood to heal her to keep her living just that bit longer...? It was barely working. Her body was so pale- He sat down next to her on the chair, putting elbows on knees and entangled fingers to mouth. All he would do was watch over until she woke up.

 

Gods, if he was there sooner, if he’d just stuck around Griffith Park-

 

He ran hands over his face and guarded.

 

.

 

A boom slammed through the sleeping woman’s conscious.

 

Ivy frowned, shifting a little, only to realise she was filled with blood and quickly galvanised her body into sucking it up and healing.

 

Blessed, blessed blood.

 

But everything in her ached from using the wolf blood and she made a sound of pain as she sat up.

 

Alone, and she wondered what had exploded to have awoken her.

 

Unsure where she was – a hotel room? – she got up, even as she felt throbbing pound through her. She looked to the side and snagged a bag from the left of her and sunk her teeth into the bag of blood. A little more rejuvenated after having slipped to empty in the tank once more, and she got up, hating that everything still hurt like it never had before. She even still felt a bit of a red hue in her gaze, and so took the next two bags, drinking one after the other. With effort, she stood. She needed to do something to get rid of the excess blood. With a growl, she departed from the room and snuck out to find a fight.

 

Her eyes widened at the state of Los Angeles, dozens of Sabbat and other vampires around and stirring shit.

 

Damn, what had she missed?

 

She breathed out in fury, growls rumbling out from her.

 

Masquerade breakers.

 

For fucks sake she hated such bastards.

 

Still, a dirty smirk lifted her features up into madness as they came for her when they saw her and she burst into motion.

 

_Perfect._

 

.

 

By the time she found the Anarchs, Ivy was covered in dust, uncaring about rubbing it off from her when more would come.

 

Damsel saw her first. Stunned at the sight of her, she choked out, “Duster! Uh… sixteen.”

 

Ivy tilted her head at the nickname. “Huh. You need to catch up, kid. Forty-eight.” She was near on immediately enveloped by Nines as he lifted up her and hugged her to him tight. She made a soft sound of pain and was gently deposited on the ground. “Werewolf blood is still there, will be a few days until it gets out. Until then I'm only up for a fight, not-”

 

Nines couldn't help but interrupt, “Just, fuck! What the hell were you thinking?!”

 

“You wouldn’t have done the same for me?”

 

“Of course I would, but you- you just!” Fury expelled from him as he grabbed her face and kissed her hard. Needing to feel her respond, he let a hand pull her closer and she keened into his mouth. It filled him with relief she could still respond with enthusiasm.

 

Ivy pulled back and murmured softly, “I anted to fight, yet... there’s a way of expelling blood I know quite well.”

 

Lust mixed with concern. “You can take-?”

 

“Nines?”

 

The duo being affectionate with each other turned to that gopher kid, who’d proven himself capable as he walked away from a fire.

 

Not letting go of her waist but dropping his hand from her face, Nines looked at the kid, his eyes only flickering down when he felt Ivy hold and lean on him, tired. He held her up with ease as he spoke, “Not bad for a cammy gopher. Blowing up the Prince in his Tower. Good.”

 

“You figured out there was C4 in it, gopher?” Ivy asked, impressed.

 

“What? No, I, how did you know?”

 

“I knew for the last few weeks. Figured it out when I visited it on the Elizabeth Dane. I told you not to open it, remember, fool fledgling? Things would explode?” Ivy outright insulted, still with the blood in her. It’s that which made her frown. “Nines, either we leave or I’ll go hunt down more and you can talk with the neonate.”

 

The Gangrel glowered her way. “It’s Jake, and I ain’t no _fool_.”

 

“Oh? Because I have it on record that you ignored the thin-blood Malkavian who told you about her vision of this happening. I told you the Sarcophagus would go boom. Beckett told you not to open it. Three people tell you not to open it with far more experience than you, and you ignore it? You got lucky you weren’t opening it along with LaCroix. After all, I made sure it was known where the Sarcophagus was to a few of our sewer friends where it was and to some idiot Giovanni’s its’ worth. Eventually LaCroix would have got it. My plan all along, babe.”

 

Skelter narrowed his eyes. “You planned for him to have it?”

 

“Knowing there was C4 in it, and that he called a bloodhunt on my bond? Oh yeah.”

 

Astonished, Nines looked down at her. "For me?"

 

"Don't act so surprised I like you enough to do so, Nines." Ivy chortled.

 

From across the road and coming over, getting attention from the Anarchs, Smiling Jack snickered in his wheezy way. “Malkavian’s. Don’t fuck with ‘em. So. We takin’ LA back or what?”

 

Nines smirked, finally deciding to step up to the role given to him by the Anarchs. “Damn right we are." Nines smirked at them, and then turned to Ivy. "But first, talking about Malkavian’s and fucking? Need a hand getting werewolf blood out of you?”

 

Ivy grinned up at him. “And more than a hand please!”

 

The Anarch Leader laughed and turned to the others. "Don't wait up for us. We'll find you."

 

Ivy winked at them. "Maybe. If we find the time."

 

Nines snorted, grabbing her hand and pulling her away back to the hotel room they'd rented.

 

Almost dying a second time had him rather backed-up.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it, a nice short little NinesxOC fic!
> 
> Hope you liked it :)

**Author's Note:**

> Any comments are always welcome, this was just another for fun bit of writing.
> 
> (I'll also be writing another story with Ivy as a Malkavian, longer and paired with Beckett instead because goddamn if I wanted to see a longish Beckett/Malk!OC story and haven't. Extra insanity of the Malks for those who enjoy that.)


End file.
